Falling Into You
by stripper girl drunk
Summary: Rachel Berry and Quinn Fabray are forced into the world of online dating by their friends, who only want to see them happy. When Quinn messages Rachel without knowing her true identity, what starts as a mere correspondence quickly explodes into something that neither girl will soon forget. Faberry.


**A/N: Something that isn't Dalton—please don't shoot me. I had a new idea and decided to run with it; if it's been done before, I apologize, but I think you'll enjoy this. Read and possibly leave a review, let me know if you dig it. To all of you still reading, Dalton will be up soon!**

**Falling Into You, chapter 1**

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><p>Rachel paced back and forth, her anxiety becoming more apparent with each passing minute. When Kurt had first introduced this idea to her, she had thought him to be behind an elaborate ruse. A joke of some sort, one that had made her chuckle at the thought. The second time he brought it up, she thought he had hit his head, and promptly searched for any injury he might have incurred. The third time, though. That was when she realized that he was being absolutely serious. And now here they were. Rachel was pacing quickly enough to leave grooves in the flooring, and Kurt was doing his breathing exercises to avoid snapping at her.<p>

"This is going to end in the most disastrous way possible. I can see it already; my poor dead body, hanging from the flagpole. I'm going to die or be very close to death, because Quinn Fabray is going to kill me. Goodbye, Broadway career, hello ICU."

Kurt rolled his eyes for the hundredth time and swiveled around to face Rachel, his annoyance apparent. He had tried to be patient and, really, he had been doing a terrific job. He remained calm when all he really wanted to do was turn around and throttle the petite girl, but even Kurt had a limit.

"That was a bit dramatic, even by your standards. You have no faith. None at all."

Rachel let out a noise of frustration and dropped back onto her bed while Kurt turned back around and continued the act that had brought them to this point.

"Okay. Favorite color. Does argyle count?"

Rachel ignored the question, focusing instead on her main concern—aside from being killed, of course.

"How do you know that this is going to work? This is Quinn Fabray that we're talking about here. She's the queen of McKinley, and I'm…well, in her eyes, I'm a loser."

The sounds of keys clicking stopped immediately as Kurt rolled over to gently take her hands in his. He understood her worry; she had no real basis to go off of that this would even remotely be a good idea. She needed to put her faith in Kurt that this would work, and it was proving to be difficult.

"Sweetie, you aren't a loser. Quinn is—well, she's a pressed lemon, and that fact causes her to act out in ways that I'm sure she doesn't mean. It's a delicate situation."

Rachel's eyes squinted in confusion while Kurt smirked in response. Quinn was a lemon? Was Kurt insinuating that she was a fruit?

"Never mind. My _point_ is that there's something there. I know how you feel about her. Those big brown doe eyes of yours give away more than I'm sure you realize. Your singing is amazing, but your acting leaves much to be desired."

That had stung a little bit, actually. Rachel thought that she had been doing a phenomenal job at hiding her feelings, but that apparently was not the case. She had found that out the hard way when the fair skinned boy had cornered her in the hallway yesterday.

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><p>"Could you <em>be<em> any more obvious please?"

Rachel jumped, the voice right next to her ear knocking her out of her stupor.

"I'm sure I have no idea to what you are referring. I was simply people watching. That isn't a crime, is it?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "No, it isn't. Unless it's a person that you're watching, and not people. A very specific person, perhaps of the female persuasion, blonde hair, Cheerio uniform?"

Kurt felt a wave of excitement roll over him when Rachel swallowed audibly, eyes darting back and forth. There was no way she was getting out of it this time. He had almost caught her staring before, but this time he was sure.

"Absolutely not! It just so happens that Quinn is amongst the crowd, and my eyes just happened to fall on her as you passed by. Nothing more than that, I assure you."

"Actually, I was referring to Brittany."

Check. Mate.

When Rachel's mouth opened and closed a few times, he laughed out loud.

"The look on your face right now is priceless. But really, let's be serious for a moment, shall we? I know you were staring at Quinn, and I know that you've been staring at McKinley's resident HBIC for quite some time now, the quick glances not so quick anymore—more like lingering. My question, though I'm sure I already know the answer, is why."

Rachel glanced around the hallway to make sure that there were no people left to eavesdrop. People like Quinn, who could make her life a living hell if they ever found out what she was about to tell Kurt. That is, if she could manage to voice it.

"I just…Quinn, she…and I can't help…"

Kurt placed a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture and looked her in the eyes. "It's okay, there's no need to explain. I'm sorry I cornered you. But Rachel, I know how you feel about her. I can see it when you watch her perform in glee, and I can see it when you pass her in the hallway. I'm honestly surprised that Quinn hasn't picked up on it yet."

Rachel sniffled and allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace. Just like that, her illusion had been shattered. Someone knew how she felt, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was almost a liberating feeling, his knowing, but also dangerous. If anyone else caught wind...

"What if I told you that there was a way for you to get the girl you want? Would you go for it?"

Rachel pushed away and regarded him suspiciously.

"It'll never happen, Kurt. This is a fantasy that I need to keep to myself. She's beautiful, popular, and has the whole school wrapped around her finger." Rachel's voiced softened, and he strained to hear her. "She's everything that I'm not."

This side of Rachel surprised him. She was always full of confidence, sometimes annoyingly so, but this person before him appeared shy and unsure. He didn't like it one bit.

"I have a brilliant plan. Hear me out."

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><p>And now here they were. After what Rachel considered near harassment from Kurt, she had given in. He had resumed his frantic clicking while she watched on.<p>

"Kurt…"

Something in her voice caused him to turn to her not in exasperation, but in honest interest. She sounded vulnerable.

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Why are you doing this? Helping, I mean. Why is it so important to you?"

That was a new question, one which he mulled over again and again. The answer was simple; so simple in fact, that he didn't think that she would believe him.

"I want you to be happy, Rachel. I know that in some really strange way Quinn makes you happy. She's nothing but callous towards you, but you remain vigilant. I respect that. I am also a firm believer that Quinn's animosity is nothing but a front, and underneath all of that anger is a girl who maybe doesn't hate you as much as she thinks she does."

Rachel's eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she listened to him speak. Though she thought that this plan was going to be an utter failure, it didn't stop her from hoping that Quinn felt the same. She felt things when she looked at the blonde cheerleader. Eye contact in the hallway sent her heart fluttering a mile a minute; when Quinn sang, Rachel swore that there was no oxygen left in the room. Even if they were to become friends…maybe it would be enough.

Maybe.

"Okay let's see here. Hobbies. Singing, dancing. Exercising?"

Rachel got up and leaned closer to the screen, inspecting his work thus far.

"If I'm going to be making a dating profile, don't you think I should be the one filling it out? I mean no one knows me better than myself."

Valid point. He got up from the chair, nearly stumbling when she rushed past him to sit down.

"Someone's a bit excited."

She eyed him warily and began typing. "Oh, be quiet. Okay. Hobbies. Singing, dancing, taking excellent care of my body via an all vegan diet and proper exercise. Role models. Well, that's easy: Barbra Streisand. Screenname. Hmm."

Her silence worried him. It would be just like Rachel to use something like her actual name coupled with 'singer' or 'dancer,' and he hoped that wasn't the case. He got up and leaned over her shoulder while she looked up at him, her excitement evident.

"Well? What do you think?"

He smirked in response. "It's perfect. It's so…_you_."

While Rachel continued typing, Kurt quietly pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted a number he never thought he'd use.

'_The s/n is goldstar_creampuff. Operation BlondeDiva is a go.'_

He didn't have a chance to put his phone away before it buzzed in response.

'_Plz dnt use stupid names or im calling this thing off. s/n here is lemon_cheer. lol totes convinced her 2 use lemon.'_

"If you see someone with the screenname lemon_cheer, that's Quinn."

Rachel quirked a brow. Again with the lemon reference.

"Who are you texting? You aren't talking to Quinn, right? Who convinced her to do this?"

Kurt shrugged his shoulders as a noncommittal answer. "I'll tell you, but you probably won't believe me, because I've yet to believe it myself."

Rachel raised her hand, signaling for him to continue.

"Santana. She and I have begun a tentative…well really I don't know what to call this. The point is that we connected on the gay level, and she's the one making that everything is peachy on the other end."

Rachel was in shock. Santana Lopez, championing the cause of bringing Rachel and Quinn together? She'd have to thank her the next time she ran into the girl. Mostly to check if she was still sane.

"I'll admit that it's odd, her helping, but I think—"

A sudden dinging noise caught her attention. It was a message.

A message from Quinn.

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><p><em><strong>Across town<strong>_

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><p>"You're joking, right? This has to be a joke." Quinn stared at her two best friends, waiting for the punch line.<p>

"Why are you being so difficult? Just let us make the damn profile already. It's not that big a deal."

Quinn shook her head, an incredulous expression on her face.

"This is online dating, Santana. Made for losers who can't get dates in real life, so they have to rely on the shady world of the internet to find them someone who's probably just as big a loser as they are."

Santana knew this was going to be difficult. Quinn was, in general, a difficult person in every aspect of her life, so there was no reason why this particular moment should be any different.

"Q. Just let us make the profile. I know you don't take it seriously, so just let us screw around. What's the harm? Afraid you might like it?"

Quinn eyed Santana, knowing that the girl would soon grow uncomfortable and divulge the real reason behind this insane idea. Before Santana could speak, Brittany stepped forward, interrupting the silent interrogation.

"Quinnie. San and I both know that you're lonely. When you're lonely, you get sad. You've been sad for a long time now. We want to help you, so please just let us. There could be someone totally awesome just waiting for you in the internet world."

Santana remained stony faced, but on the inside she was smirking with victory. It was impossible to say no to Brittany; even Quinn fell victim to the girl's big blue eyes.

Quinn sighed in resignation. She could give it a shot and then delete it as soon as it proved to be as lame as she knew it was going to be. "Okay. Let's try it." Brittany smiled and lifted Quinn out of her bed, carrying her over to the computer. Quinn giggled lightly and patted the taller girl on the shoulder.

"Okay, you can put me down now, B. So I see you two already filled it out for me. Hobbies include athletics, reading, writing, photography."

Quinn didn't want to admit it, but she was slightly impressed. There were certain aspects of her life that she tried to keep to herself because she knew what the consequences would be in anyone found out, but it seemed that the two girls in front of her were already privy to that information.

"Lemon_cheer? I get the cheer, but why the lemon?"

Brittany was happy to answer. "Oh, it's because you're a pressed lem—"

"Uh, it's because of your hair. You know, it's blonde and shit. Like a lemon."

Quinn was going to press the issue and then stopped. Santana was still hiding things, it was obvious by the way her left eye was twitching—a tic to signify whenever the girl was lying, but if she was being honest with herself, she actually liked the sound of it. As Quinn was busy reading through all that they had written, Santana's phone vibrated in her pocket. Quinn eyed her warily, expecting the Latina to tell her who it was, but Santana responded with her own look that screamed 'can I help you?' and went back to typing on her phone.

'_Plz dnt use stupid names or im calling this thing off. s/n here is lemon_cheer. lol totes convinced her 2 use lemon.'_

Porcelain was cheesy and lame, that was for damn sure. This little plan of his had better work or she was liable to choke Quinn. The girl had been so exhausting lately with her moping and overall bitchiness. Santana and Brittany knew the real reason behind all of her misplaced aggression, but they wouldn't have dared to bring it up to the girl in question. There was a pretty damn good reason why she was the HBIC, as much as Santana hated to admit it.

Quinn's anger, her sadness, and all of her other emotional outbursts: it all went back to a pintsized Jew named Rachel Berry. Whenever Rachel was around, Quinn was a complete and utter mess. All of her feelings became too difficult to maintain, and she became a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. Quinn claimed it was because Berry was a waste of oxygen, a disgusting thing that wasn't fit to walk the earth, but Santana knew otherwise.

Santana knew when Quinn was lying; it was one of the perks of being best friends for many years. She knew why Quinn so volatile around Rachel, even when Quinn didn't know it herself. There was something between them, and as much as Quinn might like to think it true, it wasn't hatred. It had taken Santana a long time to come to terms with Quinn's obvious attraction, but at the end of the day, she wanted her best friend to be happy…even if it was with a small dwarf who didn't know when to keep her mouth shut. Brittany had played a key role in Santana's acceptance of Rachel possibly being suitable for Quinn, because like she said on numerous occasions_, they're one in the same, a piece of each other, but too stupid to see it._ That was her girl; ever the philosopher.

And now here they were. Quinn was messing around with her profile while Santana stood over and watched like a hawk. She watched as Quinn cycled through profile after profile, knowing, _just knowing_, that she'd stop when she came to Berry's.

Quinn didn't speak, she merely clicked the button marked 'next' and continued looking through the profiles of people in the area, around the same age. When Rachel's profile popped up, Santana's breath caught in her throat. This was it. The moment of truth.

Quinn moved the cursor back and forth as she read the description of the person before her.

"…singing, dancing, taking excellent care of my body via an all vegan diet and proper exercise. Role model: Barbra Streisand."

Santana rolled her eyes; really, why did Berry have to be so obvious? This was when Quinn was going to put two and two together, and realize that no, it wasn't a stranger on the opposite end, it was in fact someone with whom she was well acquainted.

"This person sounds interesting. What do you think?"

Santana hid the glee that she felt and leaned forward, pretending to read the details of this mystery person. She wasn't going to comment on the fact that the person was female; she had known Quinn wasn't exactly straight as an arrow, but it wasn't her place to call her friend out; in this moment, she was proud of Quinn. But then again, she also wanted to smack her. Anyone in their right mind would know that this was Rachel's profile, but Quinn remained clueless.

"Sounds good. Let me know how it goes. Me and my girl needs to bounce on out. Later, Fabray."

Quinn sent a small wave in their direction, her eyes remaining glued to the screen. Something about this person spoke to her; she felt like she knew them already, and oddly enough, found herself wanting to know more. She mustered up all of the courage that she had, and clicked on the words highlighted and underlined in blue: message this person.

And so she did.

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><p>Santana and Kurt friends? Weird. Poor Quinn in the dark? Oh man, how will that pan out? Hope you all enjoyed the story. Much love! Also, a note on the screennames: I'm sure you're all familiar with the term 'pressed lemon,' but Rachel's 'creampuff' is a derivative of the webseries (also novel) Carmilla. I highly recommend it to all of you in the internet world.<p> 


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